A Winter's Tale
by MissBubbles
Summary: Kay doesn't like snow. And he doesn't like that Arthur wakes him up at some God-forsaken hour to look at it. Arthur's smiling though, so he supposes the white stuff has it's good points.


Disclaimer: 'The Sword in the Stone' belongs to T.H. White; the 2004 King Arthur movie belongs to people who mess with history in delightful and entertaining ways. I have no claim on either, which is sad for me.

Author's note: This is just a oneshot I wrote about a year ago when I woke up to find the most snow London had had in twenty years piled up outside my front door. I felt like a little kid at Christmas (I hadn't been alive twenty years before, so I'd never seen snow like it) and I really wanted to write something that captured that childish and entirely illogical desire I felt to just tramp around it circles until I caught hypothermia. Around the same time, I'd been trying to write down my own version of Arthur's childhood, which in my mind is basically a mash-up of the depressing movie version and the heart-warming 'Sword in the Stone' version. This is the result; I hope you enjoy it!

_oOo_

**A Winter's Tale**

'Kay! Kay! It's snowing!'

Arthur's excitement went unanswered and when he turned away from the icy wonderland beyond the bedroom window he found Kay buried under his covers, apparently still asleep. Arthur clambered down from his bed and crossed the room to where Kay slept. He jumped on top off the mound of covers and shook what he thought were his brother's shoulders.

'Kay! Wake up! Kay!'

The redhead groaned into his pillow and cracked his eyes open; sleep-clouded blue met fervent green and Kay frowned, bleary eyed and still not knowing the reason for this disturbance.

'What?'

He sounded groggy and grumpy, but Arthur didn't mind – Kay was always like this in the mornings and he supposed it _was_ rather early.

'It's snowing! Come and see!'

Arthur jumped off of the bed and tugged hopelessly on Kay's shirt, failing to move the sixteen year-old even an inch. Kay groaned again and rolled over, turning his back on Arthur. He pulled the heap of covers over his head and Arthur strained to hear his muffled words.

'It snows all the time, Wart.'

'But this is the first snow! And it's so deep!'

As if to support his point, Arthur ran back to the window and jumped onto his bed, which was right underneath it. He ripped the curtains open and stared out at the snowy scene beyond the glass, already itching to go and spoil the perfect white blanket that had covered the fort during the night. He turned back to his brother, who seemed to be intent on going back to sleep.

'Kay! Come and look!'

Snatching up his pillow, he took aim and flung it at Kay's bed, scoring a hit on what he thought must be the older boy's head. For a moment there was perfect silence and Arthur was just about to give up when Kay sprung suddenly from his fortress of blankets and charged Arthur's bed, wielding his own pillow. With an almighty roar that made Arthur shriek with delight, Kay began his assault and the young boy collapsed hopelessly back onto his bed. Curling into a ball and laughing impossibly hard as he was pummelled by the pillow.

Kay only relented in his assault when the pillow tore open and duck feathers snowed down upon them in a blizzard much warmer than the one outside. Arthur was laughing so much it hurt and he gasped for breath between giggles. Kay collapsed onto the bed beside him, breathing heavily.

Once his giggles had subsided, Arthur turned to look at the older boy, who already looked like he was falling asleep again. He hiccupped and Kay opened one eye, fixing him with a look full of suspicion.

Arthur grinned.

'Let's go outside.'

Kay groaned and squeezed his eye shut again, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face into the covers. Arthur sat up and shook him insistently.

'Come on! It'll be fun!'

'The snow will still be there in a few hours, Arthur.'

Arthur rolled his eyes in exasperation and stood up again, bouncing so that the mattress shook and Kay was forced to roll onto his back again.

'But it will be spoilt in a few hours.'

Kay raised an eyebrow and propped himself up on his elbows.

'You'll spoil it if you go outside anyway.'

'That's the point, stupid!'

Arthur climbed off of the bed and ran over to the wardrobe, pulling it open and grabbing the thickest, warmest clothes he could reach. He carried a pile over to Kay and thrust them at his brother's chest, fixing him with the most endearing face he could manage.

'Please?'

Kay wasn't convinced by the wide eyes or innocent smile but he huffed out an unconvincing, hard-done-by sigh and nodded anyway, because he hadn't seen Arthur this happy since Igraine's death and he'd promised his father he'd look out for the kid.

Arthur's grin was wide enough to light the entire fort and he ran back to the wardrobe to get his own clothes.

_oOo_

It took them no time at all to get dressed and soon they were standing in the doorway of the tiny two-up, one-down house, staring out at the immaculate sheet of white spread out in front of them. Neither seemed willing to be the first to disturb the scene that surrounded them and after an impossible amount of time Kay looked down at the boy beside him, nodding encouragingly out into the street.

'Go on then.'

Arthur looked up at him, peering out from underneath a fur hat, which fell so far down his head that it almost covered his eyes.

'You go first.'

'No way – you started this.'

Arthur looked back out at the snow and finally took a tentative step forward. His foot disappeared into the powdery whiteness with a satisfying 'creak' and he smiled at the indentation. He took another step and then another, until he was buried up to his knees in the snow. With every step he kicked up puffs of whiteness, which was whipped about in the slight breeze that wafted past before settling again a few feet from him.

He turned back to the house and saw Kay still standing by the door, watching him.

'Come on!'

Kay heaved a sigh and waded forward into the drifts of snow, heading towards the place where Arthur was bounding in circles like an excited puppy. The sun had barely started to come up, the sky washed with only the faintest of pale-blue tinges. Kay stopped for a moment, taking in the perfect stillness around him, which was marred only by Arthur's excited yelps as he fell deeper and deeper into the snow.

It _was_ pretty, he supposed.

'Kay!'

He turned to look at his brother, who was standing hip-deep in snow. His was panting and grinning like a wild thing and Kay raised his eyebrows.

'Dad's going to kill you when he sees you.'

Arthur's grin widened and Kay narrowed his eyes, immediately suspicious.

'What are you –?'

The snowball flew at him through the dark air and Kay wasn't quite quick enough to avoid it. Fortunately, Arthur was a dreadful shot, so the missile exploded into a cloud of white against Kay's shoulder, instead of his face. He was quick to counter-attack, scooping up handfuls of snow and rolling them into compact missiles far quicker than Arthur could manage. He'd been doing this for far longer, of course, so it was no time at all before he had the younger boy pinned down in a snow drift, a fistful of snow poised above a now hatless head of dark hair.

'Yield?'

Arthur wiggled and squealed and flailed his legs in a hopeless attempt to escape. His arms were pinned behind his back and he was soaked to the skin with melted snow. He shook his head forcefully and gave a particularly violently wriggle, but Kay suddenly seemed impossibly strong.

'Come on, Wart. You know what's good for you.'

'Never!'

'Have it your way.'

Kay let go of his brother's hands but before Arthur could react he felt his collar being yanked back and a handful of icy snow was thrust down his tunic. He shrieked from cold and jumped up, knocking Kay back into the snow. The older boy collapsed in a fit of laughter as Arthur hopped about slapping at his back, trying to get the snow out of his clothing.

It wasn't long before he lost his balance and toppled, head-first, into a particularly high mound of snow. Kay laughed even harder as the boy disappeared completely. He remerged moments later, dripping wet and gasping for breath.

A rumble of laughter that belonged to neither Kay nor Arthur joined the fray and both boys turned to see Ector watching them from the door of the house.

'Come in, the pair of you, before you catch your deaths.'

Kay got back to his feet and walked over to Arthur, who was already stumbling, shivering towards the house. Grabbing his foster-brother by the collar, he heaved him over the mounds of snow and dragged him back to the doorway, helping him to shed almost all his layers of dripping-wet clothing before entering the house.

Ector had lit a fire in the kitchen grate and a pot of stew was already bubbling over it. The sun was now peeking up over the battlements, washing the tiny fort-town in a pale yellow glow. Kay pulled his own jerkin and tunic over his head as Arthur stumbled towards the fireplace, all pale flesh and skinny limbs. He dropped his clothes in a sopping heap at the door before following his brother and sitting down in front of the fire. Ector tossed dry clothes over to them and, shaking, they pulled them on over clammy skin, already exhausted from their snow fight.

Kay pushed wet, coppery hair away from his forehead and fell backwards onto the rug, staring up at the low ceiling and listening to his father clatter about in the cupboards, searching for some bowls to serve the stew into.

'Come and eat your breakfast, boys. You're going to help me do some shovelling afterwards.'

'Brilliant! I've never shovelled before'

Arthur jumped up off the rug and sat down at the table, pulling his stew towards him eagerly. Kay took longer to get up and moved with muscles already stiff from the cold. He was not so enthusiastic about shovelling, but the moment he opened his mouth to complain Ector fixed him with a look that made him think better of it. He sat heavily in the chair beside Arthur and dragged his own stew over to him, relishing the warmth it brought to his tingling fingers.

_oOo_

By the time Kay had finished eating Ector and Arthur were ready to go. Arthur shoved a thick jerkin and his cloak towards him urgently, as though shovelling snow was the most important thing to happen in his lifetime. Kay supposed that, to Arthur, it may well have seemed that way.

Pulling the garments over his shoulders and fastening them as tightly as he could, Kay snatched up his gloves from where they hung above the fireplace and stepped back outside, into the cold. He slammed the door shut behind him, causing little avalanches to slip from the rafters onto the snow-covered ground and walked over to his father, who was a few feet away, watching Arthur bound through the snow with an absent smile on his face.

'I don't get it, it's just snow.'

Ector turned to look at him, his blue eyes sparkling in the way that told Kay he was too young, or perhaps too old, to understand, which irritated him immensely.

'You were just like him at that age.'

Kay scoffed doubtfully.

'I was not.'

Ector's laughter rumbled in his chest and he clapped Kay on the shoulder affectionately, before wading forward into the snow, heading towards the stables. Kay followed reluctantly, watching Arthur run backwards and forwards between Ector and the end of the street. He hadn't been that excitable, surely; he'd never _wanted_ to shovel snow from the roads, had he?

Ector and Arthur rounded the corner and Kay suddenly found himself alone in the snowy street. He looked about himself and saw the windows begin to light up in the tiny, mismatched houses around him. People were beginning to stir now that the sun had risen fully and they moved about their homes; wives making breakfast, husbands forcing open front doors half-buried in the snow and children staring wide-eyed at the wonderland beyond their windows.

Kay turned the corner just in time to see Arthur disappear into the stable block. Ector had stopped to talk to Rufus, whose bright hair seemed garish against the snowy backdrop. The Roman looked up at his approached and nodded stiffly, before bidding Ector good morning and trudging of towards the fortress hall. Kay didn't stop to ask what his father had been discussing with the Roman, assuming it had been some pointless speculations about the weather. He reached the stables and pushed his way inside, where he was immediately set upon with a shovel-wielding Arthur.

'Christ, Wart, watch where you're swinging that thing.'

Arthur grinned up at him and pointed at the pile of shovels in the corner, as though silently ordering Kay to go and get one. Kay ignored him and instead walked over to where Jols was mucking out one of the stalls. His friend looked relieved on seeing his approach and left the stable to come and greet him. He nodded to Arthur, who was now trying to drag two shovels along at the same time whilst Ector watched, shaking his head fondly.

'He seems enthusiastic.'

Kay grunted and folded his arms, watching Ector take both shovels in one hand whilst ruffling Arthur's hair with the other. There was something familiar about the scene, although he couldn't quite place it.

'He had me up before the sun, insisting we go outside. I don't get it.'

Jols grinned, as though this was an endearing story. Kay thought that was only because he hadn't been the one being forced out of his bed at the crack of dawn.

'Kid's are like that, aren't they? They love the snow.'

'Apparently.'

'Jols! Those stables won't muck themselves out!'

Jols winced at his father's shout and picked his shovel up again, sharing a long-suffering glance with Kay before returning to work.

'See you later?'

'Sure, if _he_ lets me.'

Kay glanced over to Jols' father, who was watching them with hawk-eyes, as though waiting for them to do something wrong. Kay turned back to Jols and pulled a face, causing the other boy to snort with laughter. The stern man behind them cleared his throat and Kay decided it was time to retreat.

'Good luck.'

He skittered away, leaving Jols to his work and picked up a shovel as he walked back outside. Ector and Arthur had already set to work, shovelling snow away from the entrance of the stables and heaping it in piles on either side of the path, forming a walk-way of sorts. Arthur was already panting from the effort and most of the snow he managed to move fell off of his shovel before it reached its intended resting place. Kay couldn't help but grin at the boy's determination, which was not in any way lessened by his struggle.

'Need some help there, Wart?'

Arthur glanced over to him and smiled, obviously pleased to be out here, shovelling like everyone else.

_oOo_

Collapsing, exhausted onto his bed, Kay closed his eyes and relished the feel of the pillow underneath his head. He ached almost everywhere and thought he must have strained muscles in every part of his body.

He felt the bed dip underneath him and turned to find Arthur by his side, dark hair plastered to his forehead and face flushed red from the cold.

'Bet you wish you didn't have to shovel snow now.'

Arthur looked over at him, still smiling despite everything. Kay didn't think he'd seen him like this since Igraine's death; since he'd found him sobbing in the mud beside his burning house, clutching Uther's sword.

Kay decided he liked it when Arthur smiled.

'I thought it was fun.'

That was ridiculous, Kay thought – no one _liked_ shovelling anything, especially not snow.

'_Fun_?'

Arthur stretched his hands over his head before curling up on the bed, closing his eyes and burrowing down into the blankets.

'Yeah, I like doing what you do.'

Kay watched him for a moment – falling asleep in the wrong bed and making the pillow wet with melted snow – before flipping onto his back and thinking about what he'd said. He supposed that it wasn't about the snow after all – it was about being part of a family.

And Kay thought he could understand that.


End file.
